


A Walk to the Docks

by KilltheCount (FreakFlag)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakFlag/pseuds/KilltheCount
Summary: My HC of when Muriel finds the MC in their shop, dying from the plague.





	A Walk to the Docks

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just here for romance, backstory and angst!! So I'm writing some of that!
> 
> I got the idea for this from another story (I'll find it and link it soon) where Muriel had found the body of MC after they already passed away. I decided to go with that idea but make it work more with the story of MC still dying on the Lazaret. 
> 
> I use "her/she" pronouns for the MC.

He rapped at the door softly, frowning.

He did not want to be here. This might have even been the last place he wanted to be, right now. But he knew Asra would be upset with him if he didn’t watch out for her from time to time. He could usually keep an eye on her from afar; mostly spotting her as she scoped out the market or while she was headed to her voluntary work with the doctor. She never saw him, it seemed, and he was perfectly fine with that. In fact, he wished nobody could ever spot him and he could live his life in peace. 

Anyway, Muriel never stuck around long enough to actually watch her for any length of time. What did he care? He just wanted to make sure she seemed well. That was good enough for him. He wasn’t a stalker, after all — just trying to be a good friend. Asra had left angrily, off to who-knows-where, but he knew his friend would still want to know that his love was safe. His love…Muriel didn’t like to dwell on it. Asra had never admitted his love for MC to him, but he had a feeling it was there. Ugh. He didn’t care for most people that Asra hung out with. Why did he want to be with those people at all? Where was this town when they were young and out on the streets? Now Asra wanted to live with the same people who shunned and neglected them, living with them as if everything was normal? Whatever.

He knocked again, a little louder this time. Paused. Still no answer. Allowing a loud sigh to escape his lips he began feeling around inside the chest pocket on his cloak. Asra had given him a key to the magic shop “for emergencies”, whatever that meant. He had never used it, obviously. Why would he come here if there was an emergency? Finding the key, he fumbled with it a bit before sliding it into its respective keyhole and pushing down on the latch of the door handle. Pushing the door open, with a bit of a creak, Muriel peered inside. He had no intentions of stepping inside.

“…hello?” he asked. No response.

“……is anyone here?” He spoke barely above a mumble; it just wasn’t in his nature. But he was certain someone on the main level would be able to hear him if there was anyone around.   
He had become very familiar with MC’s routine over the last few weeks and even when she did change it up from time to time, he would usually find her wandering about the town within the next day or so. But, now, the first week of summer was coming to a close and he hadn’t seen her the entire time. Strange? Sure, but he wasn’t too concerned. Maybe the doctor had her working long shifts and staying in his clinic? He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when thinking about Julian. 

Muriel lowered his head, carefully, as he stepped inside the magic shop. He hadn’t been inside it before despite Asra’s occasional pleas of, “You should get out more, Muriel! Meet new people. They’re not all as bad as you think,” and, “Come hang out with us at the shop. MC is nice. She likes you!”

His eyes darted around the room, adjusting to the mere amount of stuff. Colorful books, cards, herbs, and various knick-knacks of all sorts, in seemingly no particular order, decorated the many shelves around him. He carefully moved further into the shop, pulling his large arms tightly against his body to make sure not to knock into anything. Hunched forward, Muriel checked out the kitchen area before peaking his head past a curtain and into a back room. The room, full of pillows and one low table in the center where readings were done for customers, seemed lifeless. He ducked back out, turning around and shrugged.

“Fine. She isn’t home,” he mumbled to himself. “I’ve done the most I can do.”

But before he had his chance to move towards the front door, he caught sight of a staircase he had missed upon the first inspection of the shop. He paused and briefly considered leaving anyway, before sighing once more. Shoulders slumped, he moved heavy footsteps towards the stairs and began climbing up the many steps.  
Once at the top, he noticed he was in a hallway with several rooms leading off of it. He decided on the closest one first but realized, as he reached it, there would be no need to check the others. Peering into the doorway of the bedroom, he noticed it was a much simpler in decoration than the downstairs entryway. Sure, there was still plenty of stuff, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult on his eyes. He focused, first, on a small, cluttered table momentarily. If he had been thinking properly, this should have been the first clue that something was wrong. Curtains pulled back on the window nearby allowed the warm sunshine to almost highlight the bed. He then saw her there.

Muriel’s eyes widened, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment for being inside of her house. She was just sleeping. Sure, it was the late afternoon and the sun was starting to move lower in the sky, but maybe the doctor had her working late hours? Muriel must have just missed her coming home, right? Yes, that was it. It was easily explained and now he needed to go. All of this uncomfortable hassle for Asra. Why wasn’t he the one here right now if he cared so much? What would she think when she saw him there? Would she be freaked out? Think he’s some sort of pervert? His flight senses were kicking into overdrive; his mind racing. He was just about sold on the idea of sneaking out before she woke up and spotted him when…another thought popped up. Was…she breathing? 

He couldn’t tell from the doorway. She looked…still. 

“I’m just overreacting,” he thought but made no movements to leave. He stood for a moment, weighing the options in his head before deciding. A lump formed in his throat as he edged deliberately towards the bed, cringing a bit as the wood floor creaked below his weight. He hadn’t completely thrown out the idea that she was still just asleep; the awkwardness of trying to explain his actions was still not a situation he wanted to experience. Just a quick check to make sure she was breathing and then he’d get the hell out of there.  
Unintentionally holding his breath, Muriel made his way past the round center room table when his eye caught suddenly noticed what he should have noticed sooner — blood. Several cloths, some seemingly damp, were scattered around the table. Many of them seemed to only be dampened with water, but the unmistakable deep crimson color painted several of the others. Not sure what to make of it, he turned back towards the bed. He was within just a couple of feet from her now. After a few agonizingly long moments, he found his courage once more and, allowing himself to breathe again, inched closer towards the body. Meanwhile, his brain worked on catching up to what he had been staring at. Laying straight ahead from him was MC like he had never seen her before; a shell of the person she once was. Bundled tightly in several blankets, she trembled and shivered, contrasted by her hair which was sweaty, some of it sticking messily to her forehead. Her face was pale and flush but she still managed to reflect a bit of her usual beauty, but none of her energy She was breathing, just barely, but his feet felt frozen in place. Muriel cleared his throat, unsure of what to do next. While he was trying to figure it all out, life intervened for him. His knees felt weak as he watched, seemingly with great struggle, as MC unexpectedly turned her head in his direction. Her eyes just barely parted but revealed, clearly, the crimson sclera that was ubiquitous with everyone who had caught the plague. 

“…Asra? I hoped you’d come back,” she spoke, barely above a whisper. Her chapped lips formed a slight, smile across her face, as she closed her eyes once again. “I’ve missed you.”  
Muriel took a half step forward. His mind was racing again, frantic with completely different worries from before. Could he get sick? No, they didn’t know what was causing the plague, but they were pretty sure it wasn’t contagious. She was clearly hallucinating; should he tell her he wasn’t who she thought? What could he do for her? How could he contact Asra? 

“I wish you didn’t have to see me like this. …and I’m sorry. You were right,” she spoke again, faintly. “I tried not to believe I was sick. I tried to fight it…” her words trailed off.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Muriel thought, feeling intense amounts of sadness, empathy, and guilt for hearing her words — words that weren’t meant for his ears.

“Hopefully, I helped some people…” she began again, and when she paused, Muriel secretly hoped that maybe she had fallen back asleep, “…I wouldn’t change staying to help those people, Asra. But I’m sorry it came between us.” 

A large shiver and she was pulling the blankets tighter to her body. Before he knew what he was doing, Muriel moved to her side, placing a large hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t think of anything better to do. The plague had been going on for so long now, almost everyone knew the symptoms. They came on strong and fast and most people, once showing the signs familiar signs of the red eyes, were gone within the week. Frequent fluctuations of the body’s temperature were just another one of the usual symptom. He knew what he needed to do now. Everyone who was sick was required to get on the boat. Of course, they lead you to believe it was an act of sympathy; that once taken to The Lazaret, the deaths of people’s loved ones would be swift and painless. Plus, it kept the bodies from piling up around the city. Muriel wasn’t sure he believed anything “they” had to say but…It didn’t seem right to just leave her here.

Closing his eyes, Muriel took a moment to center himself before reacting again. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t manage to figure out anything important enough to say. Instead, he slid his large hand behind the curve of MC’s upper back and sat her up, gradually. Her eyes fluttered lightly, still clutching the blankets and looking barely strong enough to sit up on her own or hold up her own head.

“Let me help you…” he finally said, barely above a whisper, his eyes beginning to well up. He wasn’t sure why this was affecting him so much. After all, he had never bothered to get close to MC. Was it because he knew how much she had meant to Asra, despite their argument? No, it was more. Despite not caring much for humanity, Muriel knew that he would have never wished this fate on, well, many people. Just one person came to mind, really. 

MC nodded, weakly. He had worried about the possibility of having to somehow, gently, break it to her that he was going to be escorting her to the docks. So, an action as simple as a nod, he felt a slight sense of relief that she seemed to know and was, at this point, accepting of her future. 

Muriel steadied her as she stood. Too tired to remove the dressing gown she wore, she dressed to go out, simply sliding the clothes over what she was already wearing. Patiently, Muriel helped her with that too. He considered how normal her actions seemed. She was just getting dressed…except she wouldn’t be returning here again. Once she had wrapped herself in her warmest cloak, he held onto her once again. It was difficult, in the small shop, but he managed to never let go of her as they exited her bedroom and made their way down the tight stairwell. He worked his damnedest to make sure she didn’t fall, especially when she took a few wobbly steps that put him on high alert.

They shuffled slowly through the front room of the magic shop. It was painful, but Muriel knew he would stay by her side for as long as he could. As Muriel opened the door for them, MC paused in the doorway, as if saying goodbye for just a few seconds, before stepping out into the almost darkened streets. 

They made their way mostly in silence, walking at an almost snail's pace, as far as Muriel was concerned. His large frame didn’t allow him many of the luxuries he would have liked, but his long legs did allow him to move quickly when he wanted to get away. Not that he was in a particular hurry. The boats came and went from the island 24 hours a day. There were always bodies needing to be removed. But, besides that, he hated his entire role in this play but he certainly wasn’t looking forward to…arriving at their destination. At the docks, he knew he would say goodbye to someone he barely knew, and yet the guilt and sadness was boring a way into his heart.

He shook his head, looking down at MC from time to time, frail as an old woman, but still in a young woman’s frame. She was clearly foggy, her eyes barely ever finding the strength to completely open, nor her head ever lifting for any length of time. Plus, several times, despite her feet continuing to shuffle forward, he wasn’t 100% sure if she had dozed off. He just continued to walk with her, holding on to her upper arm, and supporting her weight with his when necessary. 

The docks were in sight now, just a few minutes way and Muriel’s heart was aching. It was a careless moment from Muriel as, for the first time, he looked up towards the docks with anxiety. Because of this, he hadn’t seen the small rock in front of MC before her foot landed it, causing her ankle to twist. He jumped in alarm, kneeling down before her and thankfully, able to catch her before it was too late. She gripped his black cloak tightly, leaning into his large arms. At that moment, as MC calmed her own nerves, the zombie-like fog around her lifted, albeit briefly, and she lifted her face calmly towards him. 

“…You’re not Asra…” she whispered, blinking aggressively as if to try to clear her eyes.

Muriel didn’t know what to say to that. Frowning and looking ahead so to not have to make eye contact, he simply nodded. 

He glanced tears in her eyes before she allowed her head to fall back towards the ground, 

“Thank you for helping me.”

“I just really had hoped…he’d come back…” 

And that was the last thing she said to him.


End file.
